The Time-Turner
by Lyricalyrics
Summary: Liesel Abram had just narrowly escaped World-War 2 using her father's time-turner. Trapped in the future, isolated from the past, and utterly lonely, she struggles to fit in, but being the 13-year-old Aunt of Severus Snape doesn't really help. With a new war coming, and the whole school against her, Liesel doesn't think she'll make it through the school year. Rated T for cussing.
1. Chapter 1

She was a pretty girl.

She knew she wasn't being vain; her beauty was evident in her sharp features, but still, she felt like some people took it for granted. Pansy Parkinson, for example. She was perhaps the most popular girl in the girls' fifth year; Draco Malfoy and her had an off-again, off-again relationship for months. And this was _Draco. _Draco _Sakurel _Malfoy, as Liesel liked to call him. And that was still with the entire other population of gorgeous girls in the entire school.

Even though Liesel only moved into Hogwarts halfway through the year, she adored it. It was fascinating, with all its secret entrances and large gray stones and that especially amazing library. But, even though books were as great as a companion would ever be, if not more, she didn't have much friends. Coming from the obscure Wizarding Polish school all the way in Warsaw, she'd have guessed that the school'd be eager to see a newcomer so late in the school year. And they did, at first.

Being pretty had its advantages. Liesel was immediately accepted within the "Pansy Parkinson clique", as she so eloquently called it, but she rejected it as soon as possible. One glance at the giggling group and she realized with a jolting horror that they'd turn her into _that _within a matter of months. She told Marlene McKinnon that she'd rather just read a good book in the library and _not _have to throw up her halfway-digested food, which Pansy Parkinson replied by, "You can do whatever you want, you little shit."

Eventually, Pansy turned everyone against the exotic newcomer, and they all snubbed her throughout the months. And now, in her fourth month at Hogwarts, Liesel Abram never felt more lonely. Staring at the misted bathroom mirror, she saw the prominent dark bags under her olive green eyes, which were flaked by dark brown flecks swirling around their base color. Her long, pale blonde hair tumbled down to her waist in wet, curling waves of blonde, and she saw the girl in the mirror nervously chew on her fat bottom lip, which was soft in contrast of her slightly fuller upper lip. Even though she was extremely attractive, there was something in her expression that hid a warning of danger.

Shuddering, Liesel was brought back into memory.

_The screams of the dying roared in Liesel's ears. The gas swirled around her in a green wisp, suffocating the people in the yellow stars. Only Liesel remained unaffected, trembling as her fellow Jews choked on the green air. She touched the Time-Turner around her neck, and only vaguely did she realize that in a few seconds the green would clear up. They'd see her, standing in a lake of dead, and they'd shoot her if she didn't go, __**NOW. **__It seemed like only yesterday that Maman Eve had given her the Time-Turner, warned her that their school of witchcraft was already crumbling to the ground even without the help of the Nazis, and sent her away with nothing but a golden Time-Turner tucked safely under her white blouse._

_And then they captured her family of what the British wizards called "Muggles"._

_She had no choice but to go on after them. And, of course, they died. Her little brother and father were the last ones to go, and he clasped her by her forearm roughly as they led the sickly group of already-dying young girls and boys away into the gas chambers._

"_As soon as they lead you in there, use the time-turner. Madame Eve gave you a malfunctioning time-turner; the only of its kind that can go into the future. You must be careful. Do it while they're giving you the gas showers."_

"_Papa, no, don't go!" Liesel had all but screamed. And then she was whisked away into the chambers._

That's when the _real _trouble began. As soon as they released the green gas, Liesel had anxiously turned it 4 times, sucking in all the real air she could before the green smoke blurred her line of vision. Nothing happened, and she felt her lungs tugging at her, begging her to fill it with _something. _But as soon as she was about to take her first breath of the greenness, a flash of blinding light appeared and then, all of a sudden, she was gone. She had awaken inside some kind of hospital wing, with a middle-aged lady fussing over her like she was some kind of hero. A dark-haired man with white skin and a hooked-nose was standing beside her beside quite stiffly, as well as the most ancient man Liesel had ever seen, with a huge white beard that fell to the floor and sparkling blue eyes.

The only possible answer for all of this was that she survived the showers.

"_Is the war over? Is my baby brother still alive? Is Papa here?" _She demanded in a shrill, cracking voice. The two men exchanged looks, and the younger of the two said something in a completely foreign language. But the prehistoric man edged closer to her bedside, and replied in the same Old Yiddish.

"_Who are you, my child?" _He asked her gently, handing her a cup of water from the end table next to her bed. She thirstily gulped it down and stared into his brilliant blue eyes. They reminded her of her father's.

"_My name is Liesel Abram. Are you… like me?" _She asked him. The dark-haired man said something in the weird language to the old man as the woman put some burning liquid onto her wounds, but the old man didn't reply and simply pulled his wand out, muttered something under his breath, and a burst of dazzling white light fell onto Liesel's face. Instantly, she gasped and began to speak.

"What… did you do to me?" She asked. Only did it dawn on her that she was now speaking English, and that she understood every word she was saying despite only speaking Yiddish, Hebrew, Polish and German for her whole life. She couldn't help but notice that, even to her own ears, her voice was heavily accented with her Middle East/European genes.

"My name is Dumbledore," The old man said, ignoring her question, "and this is my colleague, Severus. You will call him Professor Snape. And yes, I am like you."

"Albus," The younger man said in a low voice, "who is she?"

"She is Liesel Abram, and by the looks of it, she is your great-great-Aunt. Her brother is one of your ancestors. By the looks of it, she'd just escaped World War 2. And how she got here, I can explain quite easily. You see, we'd recently heard that the Death Eaters are switching tactics, and are traveling inside the more _isolated _parts of Europe- a secluded village in Germany, for example. So, naturally, the Ministry of Magic told the Aurors to guard the place. And then, in the newspaper, was a story about a girl with a Time-Turner around her neck, who was found in a large apartment building which was formally a concentration camp in the Muggle World War 2. They contacted me, of course, not deciding what to do with the girl, so I let them Obliviate the poor Muggles and I brought the girl here."

"Sir, please, where is my Papa? Where is Adi? Are they…" She couldn't finish her sentence, as she burst into hysteric sobs. The woman tending her wounds turned angrily towards the men.

"Can't this wait until morning?" She asked, her tone irked. Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"I'm afraid we need these answers right now, Madame Pomfrey. Liesel, may I see your Time-Turner?" He asked her. Liesel instantly griped the golden Time-Turner with one pale, scarred hand. Her father warned her to not lose it under any circumstances, and she was not about to hand it to some blustering stranger.

"Papa told me not to give this to anyone," She whispered. She couldn't speak in a normal tone, it seemed; every time she opened her mouth to let air in, her throat would burn like she was inhaling the green gas.

"Liesel, _please._" Dumbledore urged. Reluctantly, she unhooked it from her neck and put it in his hands.

"Ah," said Dumbledore in a low voice. "It is the last of its kind. Liesel, where did your father get this?"

Liesel became so angry she started to curse in Hebrew and Pollish at the same time.

"_Yah zayin lo arel_! _Wkurwiasz mnie_!_ Ben Zonah! Ani ekraa othaa!" _She ranted. Her father would've slapped her, had he been there, but now she had no parents, no siblings- there was no holding her back now. Dumbledore waited with a calm, sort of steely, expression as she finished her string of swears.

"Miss Abram, I know you are in emotional shock-"

"_Ani rotzah leshon," _She said sharply, and turned away. _**(AN: Guys, in case you're lost, the italics mean she's either speaking in Yiddish, Polish, or Hebrew.) **_She tried shutting her eyes, but she could still feel the presence of the old man and her supposed great-great-nephew. It was weird, picturing a man as old as he was to be her nephew. But at least that meant her brother had survived, if not her father.

"…Let the poor girl rest," pleaded the old lady- Madame Pomfrey, or other-, her tone begging. Dumbledore didn't answer, but he led the way out with his colleague. Only then did Liesel start to cry.

**Hey, persons!**

**I know this is pretty rough, but I like the basic outline of it. Now, I know you're kind of confused about all the Yiddish and Hebrew and stuff, so I'm just going to say that I made this as soon as I watched the Book Thief, and **_**NO, **_**this is not a crossover of the Book Thief and Harry Potter- I just **_**REALLY **_**like the main character in the Book Thief, I suggest you read it. **

**Liesel Abram is my own OC, and she's had a really rough past; so don't judge her being too morbid or sulky at first.**

**Ben Zonah- Son of a bitch/whore**

**Yah zayin lo arel- Don't piss me off**

**Ani ekraa othaa- Same as above; you're pissing me off**

**Once more, I apologize for the roughness of this chapter, but I'll smooth out the story in the next. Please review, and with that-**

**Love, hugs, and all that jazz,**

** Lyricalyrics**


	2. Chapter 2

Naturally, Liesel Abram was sorted into Gryffindor.

It was inevitable that she would, but personally? She asked herself why the Sorting Hat thought that suffering was brave. It wasn't. Suffering was pain and struggling to live. It wasn't bravery. As soon as she told him this, back in the Headmaster's office (they decided they didn't really need an audience), he let out a dry chuckle.

_You are stoic, my dear. And brave, even though you don't realize it._

_That is so Klischee, _she protested. _That is so cliché._

_How? _The Sorting Hat asked with amusement.

_The Jewish girl from World War 2 just happens to be put in Gryffindor because she suffers so much. But I'm smart. And I'm sociable, too. Why not put me in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff? _

_Enough. _The Sorting Hat decided. _My word is final._

And then he called out, "Gryffindor!"

Dumbledore and Liesel's great-nephew, Severus Snape, clapped (though Severus's was half-hearted, and a scowl was on his face) for her as he said it. Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked extremely delighted as he put his hands together.

"Excellent! Fantastic!" He grinned. Liesel, unsmiling, ripped the hat off her pale blonde head and gave it to the smiling man.

"Your hat is very _Klischee. _And very, very stupid. It believes that suffering is bravery. _Arschgrobbler," _She muttered the last part under her breath. Dumbledore, ignoring her comment, put the Sorting Hat back on its shelf.

"Herr Snape," She said, addressing the greasy-haired man, "you are my brother's descendant. I don't know how he landed with a British girl for a wife, but last thing I heard before I was sent to the _Konzentrationslager _was that Britain joined the Allies, so I'm just glad he didn't marry an Axis. But, getting to the point, we are family. And I will treat you just as well."

Then she reached up, grabbed his collar in one fist, and brought his face so close to hers, he could feel her sharp breath on his cheeks.

"I smell Death here." She whispered, her voice suddenly frightened. "It smells like Death, looks like Death. The trees are long, natural green buildings of God. They are dying. The clouds cling on to the sky for their life, as if the slightest wind will drag them away. They are afraid. The sun which used to be a glittering yellow _kreis _is fading away- slowly, but surely. Why is it that Death is near? And don't lie to me, _Saukerl,_" She suddenly added, her tone harsher, "you must tell me the truth."

She peered over Snape's shoulder to glance at Dumbledore; see if he was listening into their conversation. He was, however, petting an odd, fire-like bird, whose claws were tucked into his leg. She leaned back and glared at the dark-haired, older man, waiting for an answer. _  
_"Liesel, you must not panic when I tell you this." He said in a slow voice. Liesel nodded once, and let go of his collar. She wasn't afraid. She dealt with death before. He took her father, her brother, her mother- he took the Jews in the concentration camps, and the Christians, too. She could handle this.

"There is a war coming. And it is very much like World War 2- only it's a magical war, and it's deadlier. When you get killed by a Muggle gun, you die almost instantly, right? A few stabs with a knife is a bit more painful, but your soul isn't damaged. You still have it with you even when you die. But there are creatures out there that can suck your soul out of your body, by kissing your lips. There are curses that will torture you to insanity before you die. And you know of Purebloods and Muggle-borns, correct?"

"_Ken, ma-"_

"It is dragging everybody apart. Lord Voldemort thinks that only the purebloods should know the ways of magic. He wants to wipe out all Muggle-borns and half-bloods out of the way; he thinks they're-"

"He thinks that they're like a disease that needs to be swiped out of existence." All the blood in Liesel's face drained away. "That was the exact same words the _Führer_ had told the Germans. I hate the Führer!" She suddenly shouted. Her voice echoed around the giant room.

_I hate the Führer!  
I hate the Führer! _

_I hate the Führer!_

_I hate the Führer!_

Liesel's face contorted into panic.

"I… I'm sorry."

For her, they were the most pitiful words she could speak.

"Would you like to sleep now?" Dumbledore asked her, concerned. Liesel licked her cracked lips, and a lust was evident in her murky eyes.

"S-Sleep? On- On a real bed? With pillows and blankets?" If it were anyone else, they would've chuckled. Dumbledore and Snape, however, didn't find that sleeping in hell for months only to get a relief from the fiery hell was very funny.

"On a real bed, with pillows and blankets," Dumbledore promised her. She stared at him, and for the first time, allowed herself to think of her brother. If he'd been there with her, he'd have laughed and danced all around with Liesel.

"A real bed, Liesel! Fluffy pillows and warm blankets and everything!" She could almost hear his voice. She shivered and glared at her hands, which balled up into fists.

"Thank you, Herr Dumbledore. I'm just silent because I'm finally realizing where I am. What I witnessed. You must understand that some things cannot be replaced. Hearts, for instance. They are very _kruchy; zerbrechlich_… Hearts are fragile little things. But when death robs you of the people you love most, your heart is broken. They tell you time will heal your heart, but they? They are _Arschlochs. _They don't tell you that several parts of your heart still lay at the bottom of your chest. And what bothers me most is that they don't warn you that death will come to you. If they did, I could have prepared myself and suffered less of heartbreak. They don't tell you death creeps in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. Sometimes, he takes other people. That doesn't stop your heart from breaking. It never did, though, did it?"

They stood in silence after the speech. If Liesel only looked a bit closer, she could've saw the emotion in Dumbledore's blue eyes; the pain in Snape's black ones. But they stood in silence, those three, as the rain poured outside.

And the beautiful, pale- blonde girl, the wise, blue-eyed old man, and the tortured, ashy white man stood in silence and contemplated about the fragility of their own hearts.

**Hey, guys! God, this chapter made me cry. I make myself cry. I'm absolutely pathetic.**

**But seriously, I thought this was a frightening chapter- mostly because of the accuracy. Hearts are tiny little things, aren't they? Especially human ones. God, those are the worst. They're fragile little things that can be broken easily, like a vase. As for me… well, I'm an Olympian god. I don't have feelings. I'm the female version of Zeus.**

**LIST OF WORDS YOU GUYS ARE PROBABLY NOT GOING TO SEARCH ON GOOGLE:**

**Klischee- cliché **

**Arschgrobbler- ass scratcher, in German**

**Konzentrationslager- concentration camp, in German**

**(Oh, and by the way, the Allies and the Axis were basically the good/bad of the war. The Allies were the good guys, in case you're wondering.)**

**Kreis- circle, in German**

**Saukerl- masculine version of pig, in German **

**Ken- yes, in Hebrew**

**Ma- why, in Hebrew **

**Führer- leader, in German, and used more commonly often to refer to Adolf Hitler**

**Kruchy- fragile, in Polish**

**Zerbrechlich- fragile, in German**

**Arschlochs- assholes**


	3. Chapter 3

"You're late, Miss Abram."

"And you are snappish, Herr Snape, but do you see me criticizing you in a room full of people? _Nein!" _Liesel snapped as she hurried into Potions class. They hadn't conversed since her speech in the Headmaster's office two weeks ago, and the awkwardness between the two was so intense Liesel wanted to die. The class peeked up in interest at the snappish mood of their fellow classmate.

"Miss Abram, even if you are my relative, I will not tolerate any lateness." He hissed, grabbing her forearm. "Five points from Gryffindor."

"Stupid _arsch." _She muttered as she slumped into a seat. Only a few seconds later did she realize the person she was sitting to was Draco Malfoy. As they were hurried to their cauldrons to make a light truth serum, Draco eyed her with an odd type of gleam in his eye.

"Hey, babe," He said smoothly. She glared at him and turned back to her potion.

"Shame you were picked in Gryffindor, we'd have a fine time back in-"

"Herr Snape?" Liesel called out, her voice sharp and impatient. Snape looked up from where he was reading the Daily Prophet, and scowled.

"Yes, Ms. Abram?"

"One of your students is constantly sweet-talking me and I find it rather _schwer_ to work on my own potion. If he continues this I will be forced to spill the contents of my potion all over him."

"She's threatening me!" Draco said angrily. The Gryffindors snickered with laughter.

"Liesel, stop threatening Draco," Snape muttered absentmindedly and turned back to his newspaper. A second later, he found it ripped out of his hands and a furious Liesel Abram glaring at him with those peculiar eyes of hers. He glared at her.

"Miss Abram, what do you think you are doing?"

"You will move him ten yards away from me, Herr Snape. He is trying to sweet-talk me into becoming a toy of entertainment for him, and I had plenty of admirers back in Warsaw. None were especially handsome, but at least they weren't such _Saukerls _as he is."

"Liesel-"

"Don't you Liesel me, young man!" She snapped, and then flushed crimson red. She actually forgot where she was. For a second, she was arguing with her brother as they walked into the park. Then she remembered: She was in a Potions classroom, talking to her great-nephew. Not only that, but he was older, powerful, and much more intimidating than her. He could easily ask Dumbledore to remove her from his sight. He didn't. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and glared at her, much like a pouting two-year-old, and the rest of the class murmured while they tried to get a good look at the conversation.

"I'm thrice your age."  
"I'm your Aunt."  
"I'm your professor."

"I'm your student, you _arschloch. _Get that vile… _thing _away from me!"

She pointed to Draco furiously, and he gave her a sarcastic wave and a puckered kiss. Snape sighed and motioned for him to get up.

"Draco, move next to Miss Parkinson. If you try to hit on Liesel once more, I will take ten points from Slytherin. Understood?"

Whispers of shock ran through the room. Severus Snape, the all-too harsh Potions master, taking away points from his own house? It was unheard of. Nearby, a handsome young boy with bright green eyes and an odd scar underneath his untidy black snickered, and the red-haired boy next to him fell into gales of quiet laughter.

Draco Malfoy showed them a rude hand gesture under Snape's desk, and brought all of his ingredients next to Pansy Parkinson, who he instantly started to hit on. Unlike Liesel, however, it seemed to be that she returned his affections, because his right hand was on her thigh and his left hand was tangled up in her hair.

Liesel turned to Snape.

"_Rav todot, _Herr Snape." She told him, and went back to her cauldron. He stared after her. How could she be his relative? She was so fiery, like a flame had flickered in her chest and made her whole body turn to fire. Fire practically flickered on her soft, pale skin. And not only the fire, she was just so….pretty. So, so beautiful, with her pale blonde hair resting on her shoulders like that, and the cute way she'd bite her lip and look up to the ceiling if she got frustrated or nervous.

Snape was many things, but he wasn't a very pretty-or fiery, for that matter- man.

He wasn't the only one who noticed. The dimwit young hooligans (which is to say, the boys) were all staring at her like she was some kind of prize. Liesel seemed to be the type who didn't care about beauty, but that didn't stop her from being pretty. Stupid, unpredictable genetics. Snape had gotten the full load of his mother and father's looks, all right. If her parents were as beautiful as she was, he guessed she got that, too.

_Lucky duck. _That was Lily Evans's favorite phrase to say back in the '70s, and it had caught on to Snape as well. It also worked quite literally on Liesel, since her hair resembled a more blonde color of a swan's wings. Feathery and soft like that, it gave Snape a strong compulsion to touch it. He didn't seem to be the only one.

But the thing that surprised him was Harry Potter's indifference. The boy was much like his father, so why didn't he gawk at the girl like everyone else? It was only natural, since James was a total player back in Snape's school days. And yet, the boy continued to work on his potion, determinedly not staring at the girl, like the very sight of her burned his eyes. Snape sighed and returned to his newspaper. If the girl was being stared at, it wasn't his problem.

While he turned to the next page of the Daily Prophet, Hermione Granger walked up to his desk, holding a dark bottle of light truth serum. Snape looked up for what seemed to be like the five thousandth time today and practically shouted at her.

"Put it on my desk, Miss Granger, and stop standing there with that smirk on your face. You aren't better then everybody just because you're a know-it-all."

Tears rushed into the young girl's eyes, and she quickly placed it on her desk. When she was back in her seat, she started to cry, and the Weasley boy, Ron, instantly put his arms around her and gave Snape a big scowl.

Liesel scowled at Snape as she walked over his desk to give him her potion.

"Don't be so insensitive, _saukerl, _even if you don't have feelings, we do too. _Alles gut?_"

"Liesel, you can't-"

"_Alles gut?"_

The words were familiar. Then, it hit him. Eileen, his mother, used to go up to his room after his father beat them both, and asked him with tear-stained cheeks,

"_Alles gut? _Are you all right, Severus?"

Snape stared into Liesel's eyes.

"_Alles gut, _Frau Abram."

He was rewarded with a huge grin and a small wink, and without another word she placed her vial onto his desk and sat back down in her seat.

**. . .**

"Liesel?" The trio burst into the Common Room and instantly hurried to where Liesel was sitting, doodling in her notebook. Harry peered sideways at it from over her shoulder. It was a picture of a young girl and an even younger boy, with their faces painted red with blood. The girl greatly resembled Liesel, except for the fact that her face was streaked with dirt and blood, and the young boy was clasping her hand, looking as if he was crying out as a few scowling men grabbed him away from the girl. It looked like the girl was screaming as green wisps of smoke curled at her feet, and she tried to hang on to her brother's hand. Liesel saw him looking and instantly snapped her book shut.

"_Ken? Ja? _Do you need something, _arschgrobblers_?" She was directing that last one to Harry. Ron gave her a big smile.

"We wanted to congratulate you on finally getting to Snape. I don't know if you know, but he's such a git-"

"He's my relative. I will not have you bad-mouthing him, you _saukerl._ I only did what I did because that little _schelsse _was trying to seduce me."

"He's your relative?" Hermione asked, shocked. "But you're so-"

"If you are going to say pretty, walk away right now. I am well aware that I am attractive. I never knew I'd have so many people comment on my attractiveness."

"Well, of course they would. You're the most beautiful thing in this entire school! Which is saying a lot, mind you." Ron cut in.

"Enough. I am sick and tired of hearing how pretty I am. Did it help me in the war? _Nein! _Not at all! If I am beautiful enough to be the subject of a handsome man's attention, then why did they do this to me? Why didn't they spare me, if I was so beautiful?! Huh?! I don't even look Jewish!"

Her rant was followed by sharp panting and an angry scowl on her face. Harry stared at her strangely.

"What do you mean, you don't look Jewish? What's that got to do with anything?"

"You Allies. You mean well, but it took all of you to defeat them. Why did it take so long to defeat three little countries? Because you're too slow. The war was already in motion when you decided to help. The bombs flew everywhere, and you're commenting on my prettiness? Millions of people died- people who were my friends- and you're congratulating me on showing off my relative? Go to hell. And give the Führer my best while you're there."

And then she disappeared into the girls' dormitory. Hermione looked as if all the blood had drained out of her face, and she picked up the leather-bound notebook Liesel left on the armchair. Taking a deep breath, she opened the first page.

_Juden _was the only word Hermione could decipher.

**Hey, guys! I really like this chapter for some reason- it's heartfelt, or at least it is in my mind. Personally, I liked the scene with Snape. Liesel's just too much, isn't she?  
LIST OF WORDS YOU'RE PROBABLY NOT GOING TO SEARCH ON GOOGLE:**

**Nein- no, in German**

** Arsch- ass, in German**

** Herr- Mr., in German**

** Schwer- hard, in German**

** Arschloch- asshole, in German**

** Rav Todot- thank you very much, in Hebrew**

** Alles Gut- All right, in German**

** Schelsse- shit, in German**

** Juden- Jew, in German**

**You guys are also probably confused by this Allies vrs. Axis talk, but as I explained in the last chapter, they're the good-guys/bad-guys in World War 2.**

** Love, hugs, and all that jazz,**

** Lyricalyrics **


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